


Treasure

by Macx



Series: Darkness Unleashed [26]
Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatsumi muses about his greatest treasure</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasure

Blue.

The eyes were blue.

Not just any blue. A deep blue.

Sapphire. Indigo. Royal. Sea. Cobalt. Prussian… Oh so many… He switched off the thesaurus in his head and grinned a little.

Yes, so blue. So very, very blue. And the iris had a darker rim which really accented the color even more.

Those eyes could be hard, indifferent, cold, scolding, relaying a scowl, annoyance and anger. They could be so very distant, keeping an invisible barrier between the man and the soul, the mind behind those eyes.

And they could be warm. Sunny and sparkling, amazingly brilliant in their amusement and their laughter. And love; or passion. Their color would deepen, the emotions would brighten the depths or darken them as those feelings rose to the surface. He would look into those amazing eyes and see nothing but what the other man felt for him, what was really there, deep inside his soul, and he would drown in them.

Emotions not seen at the office most of the time.

Those eyes were shielded whenever he was at work. They were kept safe by glasses; thin, transparent glasses. Despite their transparence they hid thise special man.

Tatsumi Seiichiro was a private man. He liked to keep the world at a distance and his eyes relayed that. But they also relayed his power and that was dangerous, potentially fatal, lethal, unique. It was something dark and sinister, something fearsome. His eyes reflected that power when he took off his shields. Even with the glasses on he sometimes scared the others with his expressions. Konoe himself had been in fearful respect of his secretary, a man who was so calm and distanced and stoic, but strict and impassionate when it came to numbers and figures of the budget.

Watari smiled. He loved those eyes. Heck, he loved the whole man. His aristocratic features, that unlined face that spoke of a noble upbringing that also translated in his bearing. He loved the broad shoulders and chest, the smooth skin stretching over firm muscles; he loved that slender neck and those wicked hands; and he loved that sharp, witty mind with its equally sharp tongue.

Yes, he was hopelessly in love. Incurably.

And those eyes just did it for him.

Watari sank deeper into his chair and watched Tatsumi move around the kitchen, cleaning up. Watari had been shooed out of the place by his lover, more or less voluntarily fleeing to the comfortable sitting area that still gave him enough to look of the slender man. They had had a simple but very delicious dinner consisting of only home-cooked dishes that Tatsumi had prepared. It wasn't that Watari wasn't able to cook, but his lover was far better and he rarely ever surrendered the kitchen.

The blond sighed to himself as he looked at the tall man. His Seiichiro. His special person.

Yes, the eyes, he mused dreamily.

Beautiful.

Soul windows. Really. Despite the shields and the hard expression. Watari had looked into those eyes and he had drowned in their emotions, in their warmth, in their depths. Those precious moments together, when they were alone, when Tatsumi could drop the shields, even if it was just for a minute, were firmly anchored in Watari’s mind.

He had never given a thought as to why Tatsumi was wearing glasses until a few months ago when his lover hadn’t. At least at home. He had spent the whole weekend without them and he hadn’t run into anything. Not that the lenses were truly of a spectacular prescription, if at all. It had been an eye-opener for Watari, in more ways than one. He had watched his lover, had looked into a completely different face, had seen something he had never really seen like that at length before. He had looked at Seiichiro…

That weekend had gotten Watari thinking for the next few days. He had been too stunned by the unshielded features looking at him the whole time to truly ask that important question. He kept recalling that unguarded face, those intense eyes, and it made him shiver with a really good feeling.

He had seen Tatsumi like this.

No one else had.

Even if he took off his glasses at work, it wasn't the same.

This had been so very special.

So Watari got thinking on his lover, a man he had known for so many years, had become lovers with just a short while ago, and someone he was discovering and rediscovering again and again.

Tatsumi was old. A lot older than him. Way lot older. He was older than Tsuzuki, too. Sure, he was three years Tsuzuki’s senior by true age. Tsuzuki had died at the age of twenty-six. But he had died in another era. They had talked little of that time, though Watari now knew why he had clung to life as he had, what his reasons had been, why he was as he was, but Tatsumi had never given him his year of death.

One thing Watari knew, though. It had been a time before the invention of the reading glasses.

“Seiichiro?” he asked as his lover came out of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel.

Unshielded blue eyes gazed at him, one eyebrow rising.

“Why do you wear glasses?”

There was a moment of total stillness. It was as if everything had frozen, even the shadows, and Watari held his breath. Those blue eyes were on him, locked, riveted, meeting a quizzical amber gaze.

“You don’t need them, right?” Watari added softly.

Unlike himself. He needed them to read the small print. Watari knew that few shinigami came into the afterlife with physical maladies, but like Hisoka, he had some leftovers from his human existence. It had never bothered him before.

“No,” Tatsumi finally answered, hanging up the towel. “I don’t.”

“Then why?”

“Because you need them.”

Watari frowned. He needed them? No, wait, stop. Not him. They. All of them. All the others.

“Why?”

“It makes it easier for you, and for me.”

Watari rose and approached his lover, studying the smooth features, the clean-cut lines. Those eyes were intense, yes. Without the glasses they seemed to see right through him, into his soul, but he wasn’t bothered by it. He had seen them clouded with passion and he had seen them express such love… it made it hard for him to think of the sapphire gems as lethal or dangerous.

He reached out and ran careful fingertips over the soft skin around the eyes, smiling at the quizzical expression in Tatsumi’s eyes.

“It makes it harder to get to know you, Seii,” he murmured. “I like this.”

The eyes closed as he tenderly let his thumb caress over the eye lids, and Tatsumi leaned into the hand cupping his cheek like a cat. Watari had to smile at the image.

“This is only for us,” the Shadow Master whispered and opened those sapphire blues again.

“My treasure,” Watari whispered, leaning forward to kiss the aristocratic nose, then the eyes.

Tatsumi wrapped his arms around the scientist’s slender waist and held him without pulling him close.

“I love your eyes,” the blond whispered. “Without the glasses.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Your eyes and your nose and your body…”

“I knew it,” Tatsumi teased and Watari snickered a little, giving him a reproachful look.

“And your mind,” he added. “Actually, I love everything about you. Especially those eyes. I like it when I can see them like I do now.”

“Only for you,” Tatsumi murmured.

Watari felt his lover’s warmth through his black shirt, ran his hands lightly over the not so customary t-shirt Tatsumi was wearing, and he enjoyed the shivers those caresses evoked.

Only for him. It made it so special. Only he got to see that expression, that depth, that wonderful warmth that changed the hard color into something so much softer.

“My treasure,” he purred again as Tatsumi freed his hair and carded gentle fingers through the wild masses. “All for myself. Mine.”

“Possessive,” came the soft murmur.

“Hm,” he hummed. "Of you? Yes. Mine. I'll share you at work, but here, you're mine."

The next kiss was deeper, with no force but a lot of emotions, and it left Watari breathless.

"Only yours," Tatsumi whispered, eyes shining. "Only yours."


End file.
